A Templar's Obsession
by yoo-hoo luver.wlegs
Summary: As a Templar, Cullen knew that the mages in the tower were to be seen as dangerous creatures and to get close to one would end badly. After all, even tamed beasts turned on their keepers. Then he noticed Apprentice Amell...
1. Approaching

Disclaimer: Oh, I wish I owned Dragon Age…but alas…

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Every Templar was trained to know one truth: mages were a danger to themselves and to humanity. The apostates were mages that were beyond control. Wild, feral and dangerous like the beasts deep in the forests. Circle mages were no better. Granted that they could be controlled in the Circle of Magi, confined and eliminated should the need arise. However, there were times that even the most compliant mage could turn. Even caged beasts could turn on their keepers.

Cullen recalled seeing a man in Denerim who kept a wolf close to him like a dog. The man was a trapper, and would journey into the depths of the Bercilian forest to bring back captured predators for the amusement of nobles. He claimed he found the wolf as a pup after he had killed its mother. He said he felt pity for it and took it in. Pity, turned to fondness as the pup grew and Cullen recalled seeing the trapper share his meals with the wolf, pet the wolf like he would a dog and even talk to it, his face close to its own. Cullen supposed the fondness turned to love but just as he was leaving Denerim, a full templar, for his new post at the Circle Tower, he heard disturbing news. The wolf had turned on the trapper and ripped his throat out as he bent down to feed it.

It was a chilling reminder to Cullen that even the tamest of beasts could turn and affection towards any wild and dangerous being can and often did end in ruin.

This lesson seemed to be on the forefront of his mind as he took his post at the Tower. He had stood in on several Harrowings, all but one failed. He regarded the mages of the Circle like caged wolves or bears, tame enough, but always with the potential to turn and kill. Indifference toward his charges, allowed for no sentiment to arise. He was what a templar should be.

That is, until an apprentice came to his attention. He was at the tower for a year before he noticed her. There were so many apprentices and so few survived the Harrowing that it was useless to learn their names. But…Apprentice Amell was different. She was a fine specimen indeed, svelte figure, graceful as a cat. Her complexion was pale from the years in the tower. She had doe eyes of a peculiar shade that looked green in one light and blue in another. She always had her long hair in two coils at the nape of her neck.

Cullen could not deny that Apprentice Amell was breath taking, nor could he overlook her power as a mage that could take his last breath away. She was the First Enchanter's apprentice, chosen because of an incident in a farming town outside of Highever that involved weapons chasing bandits away.

The templar watched her from afar until one day when he was stationed near the stairs to the third floor. Apprentice Amell had entered the First Enchanter's study for a lesson. The door was open and the angle that he was standing at allowed for a view of the lesson. Amell was working on a lightning spell with surprising ease. Her casting was working its own magic on Cullen and he almost allowed three young apprentices on the third floor.

As he turned the young ones away, he heard footsteps lead to the First Enchanter's door. The apprentice came into view, rouge strands of her honey blond hair poking out near her face. She had an arm full of texts and scrolls and an ivory and blue shawl was draped around her to keep out the cold of the tower.

"Read those texts I gave you about Creation spells for next time. And Danae," First Enchanter Irving added as she turned to leave, "Please stop asking Templar Bran if you can leave the tower. You've been here since you were a child and he doubts any apprentice of mine could be so forgetful."

"It's not so much forgetfulness as much as…" she paused trying to find the right word and scrunching her nose in the process, "…a test of positive thinking."

The First Enchanter laughed as he ushered her out with a fatherly hand guiding hand on her back. "In other words you will ask Bran until he grows tired of answering you and give in. My girl, I would advise you to give up this test. We allow you out on the grounds whenever we can, allow that to be enough."

"But it's not. We can barely see what lies beyond the lake from the windows in the upper levels! I don't see why we mages can't-" She paused at the elder mage's held up hand.

"My dear, we are embarking on a conversation of politics but I am afraid that I must finish a few things before a meeting with Greagoir. If you'll excuse me." He quietly shut the door behind him, leaving Cullen and the apprentice in the empty hall.

She walked a few paces and then rested her head against the stone wall and heaved a sigh before turning to walk down the opposite end of the hall. As she walked away, her shawl slipped off of the crook of her arm. She paused and looked down at the shawl on the floor. Cullen almost let out a laugh as Apprentice Amell turned in a circle, her arms too full of reading material to grab the shawl.

"Allow me," Cullen called out, leaving his post and striding swiftly to her.

She gave him a look that was a mixture of defiant and frightened. It wasthe look of a deer that crossed paths with a hunter. She stepped back as Cullen reached out to grab the shawl.

"Thank you, but I can take care of this." Her voice was crisp and clear to hear. Cullen decided it suited such a beautiful creature.

Cullen didn't reply but slowly grabbed the corner of the shawl that was on the floor and gently draped it across her shoulder so as not to spook her into flight.

"Thank you but that wasn't necessary." She informed him, looking him in the eyes.

Up close, her eyes seemed to be green and her skin was as pale as marble. Her gaze and the smell of lemon and lavender made the man trained to not be taken in by mages, freeze. It was a different kind of magic, though, one that the Chantry could not control.

She was gazing beyond to the end of the hall, though where the same young apprentices were attempting to enter the Great Hall before dinner.

"Look behind you, Templar." She told him after a moment.

"Andraste's breath!" Cullen cursed, turning his back to her as he called to the apprentices that the hall was closed before dinner.

The didn't heed him and Cullen raced down the hall, certain that the Knight-Commander would be livid when he found Cullen left his post.

The clear voice that spoke had so much authority that he stopped in his tracks. It took Cullen a moment to realize that it was Apprentice Amell speaking.

"Young ones, why don't you go down and ask Templar Bran if you can go outside?"

The young apprentices rushed to Amell. They appeared to be no older than eight years old and were probably new to the Circle.

"Really?" One cried.

"You betcha. And if Templar Bran says 'no' just ask louder; it's part of the game!" Amell replied, watching the young apprentices rush off.

Cullen took a moment to admire the lopsided smirk on her face before he spoke and made her turn her attention back to him. "Thank you, but that wasn't necessary."

The smile spread further across her lips as she answered, "Danae Amell never forgets a favor…." She trailed off, prompting him for his name.

"Oh, ah…Cullen." He stammered.

Danae nodded and turned to walk down the hall. She spoke over her shoulder, "If I were you, Cullen, I would return to your post before anyone else creeps through."

She stalked down the hall before Cullen could respond and he returned to his post, looking over his shoulder at her, like a hunter who had just caught glimpse of a she-wolf in the wild.

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**A/N: Well, here it is! And yes, I know I took the 'it's part of the game' line from Gilmore Girls, but gosh darn it, it just sort of fit. Not quite sure where this will go, but it seems that what Cullen felt towards Amell was more than a simple crush and a bit more obsessive. Hmmm….perhaps I shall have to put in cake. Please review and give me your thoughts. **


	2. Taming

**A/n: Thanks to all of you who read and to roxfox1962. As always, I appreciate those who read and review. Cake?**

Since the first encounter, Cullen had watched Danae closely when he could. He was absolutely fascinated by her. He even took to watching her with her fellows when he was stationed in the Great Hall, attempting to study her when she was at ease.

When he was training to be a Templar in Denerim, a sister of the Chantry took to feeding a stray. At first it would run when she set out food and then when it was sure the sister was gone, it would eat. After a while, the cat began to trust the sister and got used to her presence. Cullen hoped that this cautious approach would work on a mage who was taught to mistrust templars.

It was rare when Cullen would be stationed near to where Danae was but one day, he found himself standing watch near the library . He was briefly wondering about nothing in particular when he heard two voices from the other side of the bookshelf.

"Denerim! Oh, it even sounds just so…." The voice Cullen knew belonged to Danae trailed off as to think of an adjective to describe the city, "_Denerim-y._"

"Denerim-y?" A male voice responded with a laugh. "Really, 'Nae, you'll never be a poet if that's the best you can do." There was a pause and he continued. "I personally would like to settle in the Bannorn. "

"Please, Jowan! There's nothing in the Bannorn but free ranged cows... Caiaphas! " Danae replied dismissively before giving a cry of recognition, "See? Right there. That's the town where my family was from: Caiaphas. Right in the thick of the Bannorn."

Cullen knew Jowan only by name and as Danae's friend. He shifted his weight, inconspicuously to catch a glimpse of the apprentices through a gap in the tall wooden bookshelves. They were sitting at a table with books and scrolls scattered on the surface. But the study materials were pushed aside to accommodate a large map of Ferelden. "Better than Denerim's _Denerim-iness." _Jowan shot back, defending his choice and possible affinity for free ranged cows.

Cullen suddenly realized that the two were speaking about the places they could never be, places they would never get a chance to live.

"Look who's lack of descriptions will land him a book of children's rhymes." Danae giggled. She sighed and the two fell into silence. "One day…we will see these places and travel to every corner of the map." Her voice was wistful, causing Cullen to envision an eagle in a golden cage. To let the eagle out would pose a danger yet it was clear that the eagle would wither in the cage.

No. Cullen mentally shook himself. No. A mage's powers are both gift and curse and someone must be there to ensure the gift was not misused…like before.

"That's dangerous talk, Danae." Jowan reminded her gravely as she gently ran her fingers along the map, as if to run her fingers across the places was akin to actually being there.

"Yes," she replied absentmindedly, "but it's what you are thinking as well." They exchanged a moment of silence while Cullen wondered why he was not making any move to quell such talk. It was dangerous talk indeed, even if just said in fancy. Yet, why he did not make a move?

Jowan didn't reply but stood up. "Even if it is, I would not go advertising it."

Cullen saw Danae lean forward and whispered, "And that's the difference between you and me." Her proclamation sent a chill down Cullen's spine as well as something else that he could not place.

Jowan gave a disapproving grunt and replied, "Suit yourself, I am off to the Chapel."

Danae's expression became wry and she reached out to nudge her friend playfully. He stepped out of reach and what would have been said teasingly came out cold, "Since when did you become so religious?"

Jowan did not reply and turned on his heels. Cullen could feel the male apprentice's glare on him as if he knew that the Templar was listening. Jowan left and shuffling by the table took Cullen's , attention back to Danae. She was longingly gazing at the map as she was rolling it up. Her fingers lingered on a particular portion of the map.

Her voice was soft, despairing, like the howl of a captive wolf. "Denerim…"

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Cullen was insane. Absolutely insane. There was no telling if she would be at that given place at all. Someone else might pick it up and that would have been horrible. Cullen wondered why he was going through such lengths to comfort her-a mage.

He waited at his post in the library, peeking through the gap between bookcases. At long last she passed him, her arm full of texts and looking frazzled. Stray locks of honey colored hair peaked out from their coils as if threatening to escape. She pulled out the chair without looking and it wasn't until she sat down, muttering 'creation magic' before she sat up as if realizing something.

Danae stood up and looked at the small black book on the seat of her chair. Her brows knit together as she reached down and opened the little book. Cullen watched a smile play on her lips and a sigh escape her lips when she read the text's title "A Guide to Denerim".

He had purchased the book before he left the city on a whim of anticipated nostalgia and the book sat at the bottom of Cullen's footlocker. She definitely would use it better than he would.

Cullen heard the crackle of the book's spine and out of the corner of the templar's eye, he saw Danae lift the book inches away from her nose and inhale. A voice behind her startled Danae from the semi-private moment.

"What's that?" A female apprentice asked, causing Danae to whip around to face her, snapping the book shut. The new comer had a distressed, wan look about her.

"Keili," Danae greeted with a hint of annoyance in her voice, "Maker's breath, must you be so quiet?"

"I was just passing by and decided to greet you. You looked so involved in that book." Keili explained, "What volume is it? It must be interesting."

"No, I must confess that it isn't."

From where Cullen was standing, he could see Keili strain her neck to catch a glimpse of the book, an act which Amell was trying to hinder.

"That doesn't look like a book from the library." Keili mused, "Let me see."

"Can I get you a ladder, so you can get off of my back, Keili?" Danae snapped irritably.

"It's just that due to the dangers-"

Danae cut Keili off with an angry tone, "I am aware of the restrictions. Yet if you insist….Templar."

She repeated the call again and it took a third time for Cullen to realize that she was looking straight at him through the crack between bookcases. Cullen jumped, started. Her eyes were borrowing into him and he stammered in reply, "Y-yes, my l-lady?"

"Come here if you please." Cullen walked around the bookcase, secretly marveling at the authority in her voice.

She handed him the book he gave her and continued speaking, "Do indulge us, we have an item for your review. Does this book seem malicious? It is an outside source so one can never be too careful. Might be filled with dark things." Her voice was mocking as she gave Keili sidelong glances of annoyance.

"I-it's a b-book, Apprentice." He replied, "N-nothing special, or terrible. Generic."

Danae flashed Cullen a smile while she gathered her armload of items from the table. "There, Keili, nothing worth mention." She moved to walk away but paused in front of Cullen. "Thank you, Cullen."

Cullen glanced at her for a moment, unsure if she was thanking him for the book or for getting the other apprentice off of her case. He reached out and settled the guide on top of the large pile in her arms. "Think nothing of it, Apprentice Amell."

As she walked away, looking over her shoulder at him, he wished to the Maker that he wasn't a templar. For at the moment, he thought he would leave his vows behind to follow such a creature.

**A/n: There was no cake…THE CAKE WAS A LIE! Alrighty then… Stay tuned for the next chap. Please review and tell me what you thought of it despite the fact that there was no cake.**


	3. Curiosity Over Fear

A/n: So I recently noticed a few typos from the last chapter. Cullen was startled, not started and her eyes were burrowing into him not borrowing. My bad. Special thanks to roxfox1962 and LibraMoon for their reviews and thank you to those who read, alerted and favorited . You lot make me smile.

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Out of all of the stations the templars rotated through, the one at the Tower's door was the most coveted. Practically every templar relished the station when it was their turn to stand guard at the main doors. It was a less mage populated area than the library or the halls so guards could be lowered ever so slightly. Kinloch Hold rarely ever got visitors unless it was an incoming mage or someone with authority. Even then, they were far and few between. The lax nature of the post was not the only reason for it to be a favorite among templars. The simple fact was that Bran, the senior templar permanently stationed there, was a riot.

"Oh, aye," Bran stated, stretching, "This post is the hardest there is, boy. How we keep out those folk banging on these doors is a wonder."

Cullen hid a chuckle. Presently, the two were leaning on either side of the threshold. Had Greigor known, perhaps they would have been more professional. However, the tower's entrance was not a high traffic area to begin with and they could see or hear anyone approaching before it was realized they were lounging on the job.

" The tower does seem quiet today in general." Cullen agreed.

"Hmm…" The other responded with a grunt, "That's because some grand mucky-muck is coming to the tower tomorrow. Apparently King Cailan wishes mages to fight with him against the Darkspawn Threat. Someone is traveling from the King's side to bring a few mages to Ostagar. The First Enchanter has suspended lessons so the magelings can prepare for the arrival. Know what that means?"

Cullen nodded, "That this means inspections for us as well, then."

Bran responded with cracking a crick in his neck, "Oh, aye. We're bound to offend if our armor is not polished to regulation shine."

Cullen let out a bark of a laugh just as Bran let out a muttered oath. "Maker's Breath! There is that Apprentice Amell again. Look alive boy," Bran hissed standing straighter and picking up his sheathed sword in order to look official. "That girl comes every day. You'd think with the Tower all up in arms about who's coming that she would take a day off."

"Hmm?" Cullen responded, paying more attention to Danae walking towards them than to his fellow.

"The girl comes everyday to ask if she can leave. Even got some little magelings to get in on it after I complained to the First Enchanter. You'd think she'd be bright enough to get the hint, being a mage and all."

"Perhaps she's just an optimist." Cullen offered, remembering Danae admitting to a test of positive thinking.

Bran rolled his eyes and was about to reply when the apprentice greeted him.

"Good day, Templar Bran." The look on Danae's face was smug as she cast the frowning templar a brilliant smirk. Cullen did not hear Bran's reply. He was too taken by the impish glint in Amell's eyes, which looked blue in the lighting. He could not help but note that she reminded him of the cat who ate the canary.

Apparently there was some formula to the banter the Bran and Danae exchanged. She asked about the world beyond the tower, the events that always seemed to reach the mages last. She wondered about the Darkspawn Threat and asked if there were any signs of the King's men crossing the lake. Bran answered her questions evenly but with a hint of impatience. At last, Danae asked the question she was known for.

"May I leave the tower?"

"No," His reply was flat and he continued speaking as Danae opened her mouth to counter, "There are windows on the higher levels, but surely you don't need me to warn you of the dangers of leaping from them. It never ends well."

She looked a little taken aback and Cullen could see Bran puff up with victory, "Cullen, escort this apprentice back to the quarters."

Cullen took a step forward, not believing his luck at how he was suddenly given the opportunity for another private moment with the young mage. "Can you spare me?" He joked, "I know how we are swamped."

Bran waved the younger templar off, not wanting to include a mage in a private joke.

"At your leave, Templar." Danae said, casting a look of longing at the door.

They walked in silence until they were out of sight of Bran then Danae stopped in her tracks. "What are you playing at, Cullen?" She demanded, hands on her hips. Her tone did not seem angry, just hard and probing. He supposed there was a real feeling of curiosity in her words.

"Beg pardon?" He responded. He was caught off guard and wasn't sure what to say.

"I know you gave me that book 'A Guide to Denerim', there is no use denying the fact. What I am curious about is _why_."

Cullen shrugged, "You just seemed so forlorn looking at that map..."

"Was it to-wait!" She held up her hand as if just digesting his words. " You were spying on me?"

"I'm a templar. Isn't that my job?" Cullen shot back calmly and Danae opened her mouth to rebuttal but then closed it.

"Oh...so to what purpose was the book?" Her tone was softer, almost a whisper, and it was inviting. It was Cullen's turn to be taken off guard.

"Beg pardon?"

Danae began walking again as she explained, "You gave me the book because you know I want to see the world but am stuck here. I appreciate that." While she had taken a few steps forward, Cullen stayed rooted to his spot. She turned her head and smiled softly over her shoulder, "But what I would really like to know is this: was the book meant to inspire me, or to pacify?"

She was being a mystery again and while it suited her just fine, Cullen decided to treat fire with fire. He closed the distance between them and trying to not show his hesitation, he reached out and touched her silk clad arm. "You decide." He told her before leading on again down the hall.

He felt her eyes follow him. Cullen recalled that in Denerim after several days of being fed by the Chantry Sister, the cat had come out as she set the food out, its curiosity overcoming its fear. The apprentice caught up to him with hurried steps and Cullen knew that like the cat, Danae's curiosity over came her fear.

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A/n: Hooray! Chapter 3! Let me know what you think. I think that Bran's use of the word "mucky-muck" warrants a few reviews, no?


	4. A discontented sheep

**A/n: Special thanks to roxfox1962 and Cookie Fairy for taking the time to review. Yay! I also would like to thank those who alerted the story, favorited the story and read the story. I really do appreciate the support, regardless of mode. Short chapter this time, but I still hope you enjoy. **

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It was late by the time Cullen was relieved from his post with Templar Bran. It had not been a particularly hard day, but his conversation with Apprentice Amell repeated in his mind without ceasing. He had several hours of work ahead of him still. The knight-commander was not to be outdone by the First Enchanter when it came to preparing for their visitors.

Cullen walked past the apprentice quarters, his thoughts on nothing but her. Was she reading that book? Was she sitting among the other female apprentices, gossiping? Was she bathing in the washroom- Cullen mentally skidded to a halt. He should not think of Apprentice Amell in such a way. In fact, he knew that he shouldn't be thinking of any mage in such ways. And Danae _was_ a mage…what would any relationship such as that yield?

As Cullen rounded the corner to the apprentices' library, a voice rang out, causing him to halt. It was Jowan's and Cullen knew that where Jowan was, Danae would most likely be there.

"It's late, what are you doing here?" Jowan's voice sounded surprised, and a little firm against the echoing stones.

She replied, making Cullen's stomach flip. He was right to associate Jowan with Danae. "Being more productive than you, by any means." Danae sounded distracted and the sound of scrolls shuffling proved it.

"You do know that it is almost curfew, right?" Jowan was saying.

"I've got hours of work to complete." Her response had Cullen silencing a chuckle. She made it sound as though since she had work to do, time was just going to have to reverse or stop.

Cullen heard the creak of wood as Jowan replied with a light laugh, "This is one instance that positive thinking won't help, 'Nae." Jowan paused, leading Cullen to think that her friend reached to touch her for the scrape of a chair on the stone followed.

"While you were making eyes at that Initiate in the chapel, I have been thinking." Danae announced loftily, pacing as she spoke, no doubt. "The King is asking for mages to fight against the Darkspawn Threat….it just so happens that after my lesson tomorrow, Irving will meet with the King's emissaries. Self-important people are almost always early. I intend to impress them."

Cullen could not see that Jowan's dead-pan look mirrored his own. Jowan spoke Cullen's mind. "Two problems there, 'Nae: one, you're an apprentice. Two, you're an apprentice and three, it's not a holiday in the south, it is to fight. Which means sword and blood. Quite possibly going in and out of you, respectively." The templar would have put things differently, but Amell's friend's words echoed his thoughts.

"I know the reality of why King Cailan wants mages. But why can't we defend our homeland without obtaining permission first?" Her voice rose passionately, her determination practically reverberating off of the stone rather than the sound. "I refuse to stay in this pen as a contented sheep when there are other sheep out there climbing hay bales!" Her shadow showed that she was waving her arms emphatically as she spoke.

Silence followed her declaration with what Cullen could only imagine was a raised eyebrow from her friend. He hid the urge to laugh. After a moment Danae said softly and hesitantly, "I saw a herd climb hay bales as a child…they _can_ climb."

"They'll never take an apprentice to Ostagar. " Jowan stated flatly, in all but a whisper.

"lf they want me enough, then Irving would push my Harrowing ahead so that I may join the battle."

"Danae, this plan is nuts." Jowan accused, his shadow passed in front of the threshold and the templar could see his hands waving in the air. "Are you so desperate to leave the tower that you will knowingly put your life at risk to only put your life at risk again? I don't think you have forgotten those apprentices who went for their Harrowing and never returned? Just last week, Alim Surana went and did not return."

"I will not fail, my Harrowing." She returned, loftily as if it were a fact.

Jowan made an impatient noise before slamming his hands on the table. The sound was not loud, though it echoed nonetheless. "Damn your confidence, Danae Amell. I can't reason with you when you are like this!"

"Because there is no need to reason with me. "

Another impatient noise sounded through the chamber and Cullen heard footsteps towards the threshold. "As you like it. I am going to bed and if you had the brain of a hen, you'd come too. You know 'tis better to turn in on your own rather than having a templar reign you in."

Danae's answer dismissed her friend, "Good night, then."

Cullen heard Jowan give another irritated grunt as he exited the library. The mage turned the corner and practically ran into Cullen. Jowan's glare was cold, almost as if he was privy to the templar's mind and he knew of Cullen's fascination with Danae.

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**A/N: I think I will stop here. I didn't intend to, you see but it seems to fit. I can't help but think of that Family Guy scene about the foreign guy explaining sarcasm when I read the ending of this chap. I can just hear him saying "Oh! It is ironic because he _is_ bloodmage! Is foreshadowing!" lol. I figure when that sort of thing happens, it is best to stop there. Oh well, please review and tell me what you think.**


	5. A Different Light

When Cullen turned the corner of the library, he could not suppress his grin. Apprentice Amell sat amongst stacks of papers and tomes to the point that Cullen would have missed her had it not been for her large eyes poking out from the stacks as if they possessed eyes. He had waited several minutes after Jowan stalked angrily towards the apprentice dorms and Danae had swiftly gone back to her studies.

She did not notice the templar bend down and say through a gap in two stacks of books, "It's curfew."

Danae Amell gave a yelp and jumped what seemed to be three feet in the air with a hand on her chest as if that would keep her heart from jumping into her throat. Cullen felt the air cool and his templar instincts caused him to negate the apprentice's spell before he was encased in ice.

Danae gave him a reproachful look. "Haven't you've ever been told to not sneak up upon a mage?" She demanded, vexation giving way to hurt pride.

"Sneaking up on mages was lesson one, I think." Cullen's comment was out of his mouth before he could check himself and he could have eaten his foot. He had to keep in mind that he wasn't in the company of his comrades or even the patrons at the Spoiled Princess. Maker's Mercy! He had to be_ careful _what he said around mages, her in particular. "F-forgive me." He stammered sheepishly.

Danae gave him a rueful smile as she grabbed a scroll from a teetering pile but remained silent. A moment or two went by and as her silence progressed, Cullen wondered if she forgot that he was there. He cleared his throat and announced, "I take it that you know it's past the apprentices' curfew."

That caused her to set her scroll down and she leaned forward. The scents of lavender and lemon filled his nose, both scents that he disliked on their own but found intriguing on her. "Unless for academic reasons, provided that a templar is present." She gave a soft smile and sheepishly looked at the table through a fringe of eyelashes. "Would you stay present?" She wondered, looking up at him through downcast eyes. "I have a lot of work to do."

For a brief moment, Cullen almost refused. He had overheard her plan and thought it was as silly and dangerous as Jowan did. Besides, he had inspection in the morning and knew that the knight-commander would be particularly critical. He had a long night ahead. Yet…he could not resist those eyes… he was briefly reminded of an animal begging for table scraps. Cullen heaved a sigh and leaned against the obliging library wall. Danae took the nonverbal scrap with a smile and silently went back to work.

She spent hours pouring over this scroll or that tome. Cullen could not help but enjoy watching her fluster about; how her dainty little feet tapped a little dance as she searched indexes and how she took a moment to smell every old tome she dragged off the shelf. As the hours drug into the early morning, the templar noticed how she drug her feet as well.

At last he reached down and unstrapped his greave off of his left calf. "Here." He announced breaking the silence as he placed the metal into her palms. "Take a break."

Danae blinked her seemingly green eyes three times. Cullen could not help but notice that she had ink smudged across the bridge of her nose. He decided it was quite becoming for such a creature.

"It's your calf-piece…and it's heavy." She announced, perplexed.

Cullen choked back a laugh at her technical term. The templar responded as he took off his other greave and took out a small wooden box from his belt. "It's called a greave." He set the box down on the table and gave it a small tap. "And this is polish."

She cocked her eyebrow and returned, "Obviously. Do you make a custom of carrying armor polish?"

This time Cullen did laugh as he handed her one of the two small rags he kept tucked in the small box. "What can I say? They drill in the 5 P's in training. Prior preparation prevents poor performance. "

A cloud of emotion flitted over the mage's face but in a moment it was gone. She replied a little too brightly, "Clever alliteration. How the spittle must have flown."

She dabbed her rag in the polish. Cullen had taken off his left gauntlet by then and began polishing as if it were instinct. He noticed Danae observing him and then went to work on the "calf-piece", mimicking him.

"You don't hold templars in high regard, do you Amell?" Cullen wondered.

She did not look up from her work when she noted, "I think you'll be pressed to find a mage who does." Silence enveloped them, the sting of the comment sinking in. Before Cullen could say anything though, Danae continued. "When I was seven, a large group bandits attacked my village. While the men fought, a few bandit stragglers found the women and children hiding near my father's smithy. So I used magic to fend the bandits off and the villagers couldn't pass me off to the templars quick enough."

Cullen remained silent, unsure as to how to respond. At length he spoke the only words he could think of. "I'm sorry." As soon as the words were out of his mouth Cullen regretted them. It sounded silly for him say that when there was nothing that would change what would happened nor the reasons that it happened.

"You know," Danae began softly with a small smile on her lips, "I believe you."

* * *

**A/n: A short chapter, but I hope you like it. Please review and tell me what you think.**

**As always thanks to those who review, favorite, alert and read. It is much appreciated.**


	6. Vows called to mind

As the dawn began to peek from the horizon and the cats of the Mage's Tower began to search for their unlucky breakfasts, Cullen gave Amell a tentative poke. She did not respond and the templar blushed crimson when he realized what had just happened. Danae had fallen asleep standing at a bookshelf. Cullen had no clue how she had accomplished that!

After he had gotten his armor polishing well in hand, she had gone back to work. However she kept up a friendly conversation with him, prodding him for information about Denerim. As the night waned, so did her prodding and Cullen had figured that she was content to listen to him speak of his home city. He did not realize that she had fallen asleep standing with her head on the shelf.

An open book was propped against the shelf beneath that Cullen had figured that the mage was simply reviewing the book to see if it was of use to her. She had still responded to his description of Denerim's docks and Market District so Cullen figured anyone would have mistaken the apprentice for awake. It wasn't until she had muttered something to the effect of "I ran through the snow with King Maric, he sang me a song about cheese…" that Cullen decided to investigate.

So there he was…and there she was…sleeping against a bookshelf in the Apprentices' Library. Amell was a sound sleeper and had not woken when he shook her arm. The templar had no choice but to carry her back to the apprentice dorms. He had to be ready for his watch in meager hours and would have been off duty if he took her back.

Carefully, he picked Amell up and while she didn't wake up, she instinctively curled into his chest with a hand on his freshly polished breast plate and a head on his shoulder. The mage was light yet solid in the templar's arms, a thought that had caused him to blush and pray to the Maker for forgiveness. His vows was to uphold the Chatry's teachings and to protect those under the Maker's Light from evil-minded mages, not to revel in the sensation of a mage-girl's form close to his.

The templar on duty at the apprentice dorms was a newer lad named Carroll, whose eyebrow waggle sent a wave of shame and embarrassment to Cullen. It wasn't what Carroll was thinking and awkwardly, Cullen stuttered, "I-its not w-what you think-k."

Carroll gave a wink as his fellow templar placed the mage on an open bunk he hoped was hers. "Oh, it looks like exactly what I think." His tone was congratulatory, not condemning and Cullen was unsure which infuriated him more.

"Apprentices need to be monitored by a templar if they are studying past curfew." Cullen reminded in his sternest and most official voice he could muster while at a whisper. "As you should know. This particular apprentice has been doing so and I kept the watch- despite the fact my shift ended hours ago."

"Just sayin'…" Carroll returned, holding his hands defensively before him, "isn't anything wrong with that, is there? They're stuck here…we're stuck here…"

"We took a vow to follow the Maker and nothing else, Templar Carroll." Cullen reminded flatly.

"Don't stop us from itching, does it?" The other prompted casually as he took out a small sack he kept at his waist. He reached into the bag and pulled out some of its contents. "Cookie?" he offered pleasantly.

"I have a watch to be ready for in a few hours." It was Cullen's way of turning down the offer and ending the conversation.

As he walked away, he could hear Carroll say, "Suit yourself."

As Cullen strode down the hall, he could not help but dwell on the conversation. How could he be lecturing about the Vow when he was barely struggling to uphold it?

* * *

The Knight-Commander was a reasonable man and would always compensate his templars if they worked well over their watches. So Greigor had allowed Cullen to rest for the first half of his post with the understanding that he would be awake and alert for an evening in the Tower's mess hall. It was a loathed post due to the concentration of reveling magi and how almost uncontrollable the lot of them were. Yet sleep was sleep.

Cullen had slept soundly and had wished for several more hours, yet the bright sun through the windows had other plans, waking him several hours before he was needed at his post. Before sleeping, the templar had repeated sections of the Chant of Light- those particular ones about mages forfeiting Paradise- as penance. Yet as the sun warmed his face, Cullen's mind once again fell to Danae. He wondered if her plan was going to fruition as she expected Was she speaking with the representatives now? Were the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter debating the decision for a hasty Harrowing?

Why was he praying to the Maker that they weren't? She was a _mage_ for Andraste's sake! For all he knew she could unknowingly bring forth a demon into the Tower. Yes, Amell was powerful, but a powerful mage could make a powerful abomination. It was better for mages to have weaker, underdeveloped powers. Those with raw power like Amell (and with such independent views at that) were conveniently set where they wouldn't be an issue. That was, after all, why there were more Tranquils than Harrowed mages and Enchanters combined. This was also why about every two in five apprentices never made it past their Harrowings.

His mind switched to a conversation he had in Denerim with a hunter who had disapproved of his companion getting so attached to a wolf pup. This hunter was a self-proclaimed philosopher and always had lofty ideas to share in the tavern. Grizzled and withered, the old hunter sported a bulbous nose that had a portion of it missing. He had a penchant for rambling to anyone who would listen and in those days, anyone had happened to be Cullen.

'The thing with these beasts, boy, is that they are wily. Some folk-especially those hoity-toity nobles feel that they are above the beasts.' Cullen recalled the grizzled philosopher-hunter announce. 'So they feed them or "tame" them and these beasts comply. Folks reckon that these animals need them but truth is, Son, the beasts don't need nothin'. Nah, it's the people that need the beasts….'

Cullen did not know why but he suddenly pushed the memory out of mind as he threw back his covers and got out of his bed. He pointedly put his mind on other things. Yes, it was a couple hours before he was needed for the mess hall post, yet he was sure that Templar Wyatt would not mind leave from his post at the third floor doors.

As he made his way past the guest rooms and to First Enchanter Irving's office, Cullen noticed a Senior Enchanter-he was sure it was Uldred- lead a party of official looking folk out of a room ahead. It was certain that these were the King's emissaries to recruit mages but as the rounded the corner in front of him Cullen's throat began to lump up. There in the midst of the "high muckiemucks" was none other than Teryn Loghain himself!

Imagine! The man who pushed the Orlesians out of Ferelden was in the Tower!

Cullen had little time to be noble-struck for ahead of them, the group strode into the First Enchanter's office. As the templar got closer, he cast a glance at Templar Wyatt, who had arrived for duty at the Tower the same time that Cullen had. The dark haired lad waved then pointed at the door the King's men just entered.

"Teryn Loghain!" Wyatt mouthed to his comrade with awe.

Cullen was paying more attention to the voices coming out of Irving's office for he heard the First Enchanter finish his greeting to the entourage with, '…and my apprentice, Danae Amell.'

From inside the office, he heard someone say to Irving, "Sorry to have intruded on the lesson, First Enchanter."

Cullen was able to see into the office within a few more steps and amidst the crowd, he could see Danae looking a little scared yet determined as she leaned back against Irving's desk. Cullen could see the First Enchanter wave off the apology.

"Not at all. We were just finishing." Irving explained then motioned towards the door before continuing. "Child, please leave us to discuss what business we have."

Cullen could see Danae nod as she readjusted her shawl over her shoulders. She began to walk out just as the Teryn shifted, standing near a table with a small caged rat.

Cullen could feel the spell forming before he even could recognize it. Hand on the hilt of his sword; Cullen rushed towards the room as he saw Danae cast the rat in the cage as well as Loghain's right hand in ice.

Pandemonium broke for several seconds as Wyatt reached the door the same time as Cullen. After much scuffling and shouting, Cullen cleansed the area before Wyatt could send a Smite Amell's way.

When all was said and done, Cullen found himself holding the little mage back by the crook of her arms. While the other emissaries had retreated on the other side of the room, Loghain remained where he stood. The caged rat was frozen to death but the ice around Teryn's hand had melted with the cleanse, leaving only reddened flesh.

For such a small woman, Cullen was shocked to find he could barely hold on to Amell as she tried to squiggle out of his reach. It wasn't until Wyatt backhanded the mage that she quieted down, her arms resting limply in Cullen's hands. She never took her eyes off of the Teryn.

"Explain yourself, girl." Uldred all but demanded on top of the First Enchanter's apologies to the Teryn.

"Child, you disappoint me." Irving began, turning to his apprentice. "King Cailan's men come to see the Circle at its finest and this is how display it?"

Silence enveloped the room and Danae's eyes never left Loghain's face. He was looking at her now, intrigued and challenged to her defiant and determined gaze. For a brief moment Cullen wondered if she heard her master at all.

"I want to fight, ser." She said firmly at length. "Take me with you to Ostagar; I want to fight for Ferelden."

The room was shocked into silence. Loghain regarded her with a look of shock and something else Cullen couldn't place as he rubbed feeling back into the flesh of his right hand.

Irving took a tentative step forward and began to address her. "Child-"

"I may not be a healer." Amell began with a passion in her tone, cutting her mentor off, "Creation magic is the bane of my existence…but I am quick of wit, and good at shooting off nature and entropic spells. I can certainly deal some damage to the darkspawn."

"As I see," The teryn returned, holding up his frost touched hand. "tell me Apprentice Amell, why do you wish to leave with us?" Loghain's voice was harsh and half reminded Cullen of a growl but the templar gauged that was how he always sounded. "This isn't like the legends of old. Glory may not always come from a tip of a sword, but I assure you, Apprentice, death always will."

"I do not wish for glory."

"No?" The legendary hero cocked an eyebrow at her, his tone challenging. "What is it you do wish for, then? Perhaps freedom from your gilded cage?"

Danae squared her shoulders and said with an authority that surprised Cullen, "No. I want the right to defend Ferelden. Could you deny me that privilege?"

Something flitted across the Teryn's face that almost alluded that he was impressed with the girl.

"You are not Harrowed yet, Apprentice." Uldred reminded none too kindly.

"That can be remedied should the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander will it." Cullen stated before he could check himself. He mentally rued his tongue for a templar to openly speak on a mage's behalf. Wyatt's raised brows did not escape Cullen's notice and neither did Danae's glance back at him. Her eyes, looking blue that moment due to the blue in her shawl, said her thanks.

"First Enchanter?" Loghain wondered simply, turning to the old mage.

Irving sighed, "My student's raw power is great, Ser, and she is very talented. However, as you can see, she lacks control over her spells. Time will remedy this, but I must confess as potent as certain spells are, if cast without control, the spell may take down as many allies as foes."

"I am not above begging." Danae cut in, falling to her knees. One arm wriggled out of Cullen's grasp and found its way to Loghain's tunic. Cullen bent as she fell to her knees, in an attempt to keep hold of her remaining arm. "Why should we wait in our high tower while the rest of our countrymen fight?" She finished emphatically.

Wyatt's hand jerked back on Danae's shoulder, causing her to relinquished her grip. Though she tried not to wince at Wyatt's grip, Danae couldn't hide it all together.

"King Cailan calls for only full mages of the Circle." Loghain told her simply, closing anymore cause for discussion.

Defeated Danae hung her head, and allowed Wyatt to yank her off of the floor without anymore resistance.

**A/N: Yay new chap! I am very pleased with this one. From the sleeping standing against a bookshelf to the encounter with Loghain, I am quite proud. I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I do. Thank you to all those who read, favorite or alert and a super special awesome thanks to those who review.**


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